Heroes of the Fall

[Erik Vale]

"I Will Walk Five Hundred Miles...."

Kalander smiles at his brother, but inside is confused. He would have thought his brother would share a love for travel.

"You chose to make a domain for yourself and rest here..... I must say, I didn't think you would chose to settle so soon, or in such magnifigance first."
But Kalandor allowed himself to feel his brothers joy, and stayed with him for many days and nights, exploring the bright side of nature.

But it was innevitable, he had to move on. And the creation of a devine sanctum only reinforced Kalandors idea that he must aid the people he was adopted by and whom he adopted, and so he left with farewell and feasting, and a quite trail, touching on many forms.

"...And I Will Walk Five Hundred More."
And so, Kalandor arrived amoungst his lands, and travelled in forms varied, both quiet and loud in his devinity, observing his people, that he would be better able to aid them latter.

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Ok, Kalandor will stay inactive for the remainder of the turn unless sought out, partially because I doupt I can help the conflict on the central conflict, partially as an RP reaction. Remaining act count is 2 Ceremonies and 1 Major.
And yes, the next lyric will be the opening post next turn, barring unseen circumstances.

[Raz_Fox]

It was difficult not to reach out and soothe the injuries of the Princes. Pain was pain, and even after Elanna had tried to trap her sisters with them once again, it was hard to watch their suffering. But Fayruz had a duty to her people. How long had she been gone? What had happened to the Olm? She needed to leave.

She began to step away from the writhing Princes, away from Elanna, unclad in anything but shining light and her sister's arms. "Khalen," she said, hesitating. "You'll be all right." It is a question, a statement, and yet still a request.

And then, to her sister, who is so very clever, who will lead the way now, who Fayruz trusts, she says, "You have a way out." And it is the same: question, statement, and request.

[Kasanip]

Sonata

Sonata had felt the blade's sinful touch. But even if images like those were to come to her briefly, here Fayruz was holding her. And now Khalen was punishing the princes.
Unlike Fayruz, Sonata had no sympathy for them. She was awed by the power and majesty of Khalen's power, but it can be said that a fox is not stopped when to chew fried tofu thoughtfully.

With Fayruz's embrace, and the rainbow coat wrapped around her, Sonata raised her chin to appraise Khalen. Her brother was doing something terrible. But perhaps it was necessary?

This time Sonata had been told to run.
Always it was telling to 'run'.
Run from the White City.
Run from her father.
Run from her twin Fayruz.
Run from her brother Khalen.

"Dragons dance, Foxes prance, Wolves never run away." She said with a determined voice.

Holding Fayruz, she nods to her older twin sister. If Fayruz asked, then they would go together.
"Of course." She said with a sly smile. She raised one hand to point at the ceiling, a fox smile touching her face. And for a second Fayruz can see the lines on her cheeks and the swaying of ears made of hair tufts on her head.

O, illusion of the night sky!
don't you know that
of all the disk and heavens,
only Gods and Wolves may know
the true moon's white face?
Stand upright and Sunder,
O Wolf of Lighting!

From the cracks of the ceiling, there was a distant howl. And the cracks begin to glow like light, until gold fire breaks through, and descending here and there with leaping and dashing, howling of a triumphant hunter, the Lightning Wolf of Sonata lands, with fur sharp like knives, and lightning sparking about.

Sonata rubs his nose affectionately, and then lifts her sister without a warning to the Wolf's back.

"Let's ride quickly. Surely this noble wolf's story will be unmatched, to carry princesses of Twilight and Dawn out of sin!"
The Lightning Wolf howled and sparked.
And Sonata sat behind Fayruz wearing the rainbow coat, holding her sister protectively.
She looked back at Khalen, an unreadable expression, but only a nod.

"Let's go." She said, and the Lightning Wolf leaps towards the true sky.

[TheDarkDM]

Vengeance in the Shadows

The blighted hands of the Nightmare Princes reached out towards the Lightning Wolf even as its electric presence ravaged their rotting bodies. What remained of their gauntlets did little to protect them from the beast's razor fur, yet they still held fast. The thrashing of the Lightning Wolf almost threw Sonata and Fayruz, their plight striking ever harder as Elanna's mad, disembodied laughter began to echo through the walls of her fraying realm.

But then, the Lightning Wolf was free, and the Nightmare Princes gasped in horror as barbed chains erupted from beneath them, entwining them in gouging metal nooses. The enslaved spirits struggled against the sudden maelstrom of fury and pain, only for ever more binds to lance towards them, dragging them around to face an advancing Khalen-Het. His mind wavering on the edge of sanity, he managed a single word before uttering a scream like unto shearing metal, sending the flood of Elanna's bower plunging into a crimson netherworld. That scream cut through Elanna's laughter like a knife, and as the chains of vengeful law dragged the Nightmare Princes into the abyss ever more snaked from the depths, arcing blindly towards Elanna as she stood at the edge of the void. But where her Princes had nought to rely on but their faded gifts, Elanna was yet a child of the White City, and a raised hand sent the animate shackles spinning into the air. Her eyes ablaze with the light of the hell below, she stepped forward, a flagstone brought into being by her very will.

"This is what you choose, brother!? To abandon me again!?"

A groan of protest came from the heart of Khalen's fury, more chains sent rocketing forward by his blind and furious denial. These too were sent careening away from Elanna, only for a few to snake lovingly around Khalen's body.

"It was all lies, wasn't it!? Your regret, your pain, all lies to hurt me even more! Well, my eyes are finally open, brother - I hate you! Do you hear me!? I HATE YOU!"

Simple words, spoken rashly and in pain, but as they reverberated through the ruin of Uluuvatar clarity came rushing back upon Khalen-Het. There was a moment, one moment, of clarity on his face, of realization, before the chains of wrath rebelled. Their loving embrace tightening to a vice grip, they tore Khalen from his tenuous footing, dragging into the abyss of his own rage. Then, just as it had opened the portal closed, leaving nothing but scorched and broken tile.

"Khalen..."

The hellish light gone, Elanna's eyes were suddenly empty, blankly staring at the place where Khalen-Het had stood not a moment before. Tears began to trickle from her eyes, as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. Her cry of anguish pierced the hearts of the twin gods upon the Lightning Wolf, and as her wordless screams rushed towards the heavens the dome of Uluuvatar shattered, sending razored shards of glass and crystal down on the terrified denizens of her realm. Slumping forward, she began to paw at the broken floor, almost as through she could summon Khalen back simply by brushing aside the dust of combat, and every cry wracked her body and was answered by the rumble of thunder in the black sky above.

The shift was so sudden, so extreme, that nether Fayruz nor Sonata could respond immediately, and when the goddess of Healing moved to dismount Elanna's head snapped up like some grotesque mannequin. Her eyes were devoid of supernal wiles, her arms and armor abandoned in sorrow, and in her broken face Fayruz finally saw the truth of Elanna, the remorseless cycle of abandonment and abuse that had made her forget love, forget the very concept of unconditional bonds. Mighty though she was, she was a pitiful thing, her mind a patchwork of divinely inspired whispering and threadbare memories of her time in the White City. She had not bound Fayruz out of evil, or lured her siblings to Uluuvatar for some dark purpose. She had simply forgotten that there existed anyone who would not abandon her, anyone who was not ruled by the base urges her very presence inspired. Perhaps there had been a spark of her old life, somewhere, but it was now banished to some hellish underworld by Elanna's own hand.

"Leave me."

Her voice dripped with spite and misplaced rage, and despite any protestations the Lightning Wolf leapt into the air, loping through newborn storm clouds to the edge of Uluuvatar. For the Lightning Wolf was a cunning beast, and it knew better than to risk the wrath of an angry and injured predator.

[Gengy]

Absorbed in the Chaos of Making

Jongo was giddy. A dragon - no, a father of a flight of dragons - had complimented her. He was ecstatic with glee, and feeling the rush of what she had just done.

But one more thing to do.

With a wave of his hand - still glowing, but not as much - Jongo beckoned to the water below, far, far into the depths of this part of the ocean. Though it fought back, the earth below the water was crushed and pushed, and groaned as a glowing Symbol of Chaos was being pressed into the rock. Seaweed and coral glimmered and shone unnaturally, as they grew and shifted and twisted to form the Symbol.

Jongo felt something click into place when it finished. She could see the Spire, the deck of Green Morningstar, and the multi-color hut in Salus.

It was all connected. Jongo didn't know quite how, but it made sense. The Symbols were creating a sort of... bridge between themselves. A way to travel to them again.

"That must be how I ended up on the Spire. I spent so much time there, when I got too hurt to focus, I just... moved back there. Right?" Jongo looked down at the Band of Chaos, which tooted a noncommittal answer. Or maybe it was just spouting noise at this point. It seemed a bit tired.

Which is odd, now that I think about...

::Creator-father-moth? Questions we have?:: One of the Jongoscion approached, and seemed delighted to be able to speak. Jongo looked to see it was smiling.

Jongo couldn't help it. She smiled too. There were hundreds of them now. And they all had such wonderful hearts.

Just wait till Haramhold meets my kids. And Khalen will positively FART fishes. Which might be needed... I've got a lot of mouths to feed! With that, Jongo turned to look out at all of his creations. She'd done it.

But that was the easy part. Now they had to learn.

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1 Minor Act spent:
Changing the Landscape to have a Symbol of Jongo on it. This will be The Birthing Grounds.

[Raz_Fox]

The Story of the Fayheran:

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This is truth of the royals when the world was younger
From the days before our Lady was kissed by the sage
That speaks wisdom from the highest peak of the world
This is truth of the second battle for the Olm, against
The king of ghouls, who marched his hosts beneath his
Black hand which consumed the sun beneath its fingers.

The Olm stood proudly against the foes arrayed against
The walls of the great Forgemaster who gave our Lady
The Crystal beneath which we offer thanksgiving for our
Blessings, poured out from the hands of the kind Maiden
Who went innocent into the darkness of the cruel city
To plead for our souls and for the release of sinful men.

We wept in those days to know our princess was afar
That she would not stand by us in our day of bloodshed
Many were our enemies and few our trusted allies then
The foxes of our maiden of song smiled from shadows
And the Greenking who sated the thirst of gasping soil
Stood valiantly by the heroes of the goddess's people.

The slings of defenders on the walls broke cruel brows
And the thirsting jaws of slavering demons of ancient
Spite and malice, ever foes of the virtuous god-fearers
While bold spearmen whose weapons were of fine craft
Spilled the blood of wild men from the sand-worn south
Who had foolishly rejected the light of the kind goddess.

But of all deeds of that battle, beyond the courageous
War-craft of the Wolf King who howled, a savage beast
Who brought hope to the warriors on our god-made wall
And beyond the magic of the Greenking who commanded
The stones themselves to rise against the dead-gorgers
Were the deeds of the three royals beloved by Fayruz.

Gamesha, the Scarred King, greatest of all in the press
Leader of the Smiling Ones, crowned with a bull's horns
He shattered every weapon which he carried with him
Standing by his blood-brother and his war-skilled sister
A thousand scars he took from those savage weapons
And one mighty blow he struck on the foe of his people.

Shyreza, the Phoenix Queen, stood by the Scarred King
Leader of the Artful Ones, robed in such fine scarlet silk
She carried blades of finest glass, anointed in foe-blood
She stood before the foes of the Fayheran and danced
That which she had learned from her Kayanek teachers
And so she came to be feared by all who sought death

Saven, the Prince of the River, stood between the two
And sang the songs which he had been given by Fayruz
Of such power that the rotting ones fled in terror of his
Strong songs of mending and making whole; they alone
Of all creatures cannot abide our Lady's songs, and so
He raised his staff against them, and scattered his foes.

These three, companions all, saw the gate swing open
Beneath the hand of the Ghoulking and his savage band
And they straightaway stood before the breach, boldly
Declaring that none would pass, so that the slingers
Upon the first wall could retreat unto the second wall
Without the dogs of the Ghoulking biting at their heels.

The Ghoulking commanded his warriors forward, but they
Saw the bull-horned king and hesitated, filled with fear
And so he declared them cowards unworthy of his service
And threatened to turn all his ghouls against them unless
They brought him the head of bold Gamesha and his allies
Bled out into the dust of the Olm, slain by savage spears.

So they came, firstly the howling Mzezann, wide faces
Painted with blood, with their great, fierce stone axes
And these the Fayheran broke with sorrow, for mortals
Had no place in the battles of demons and god-chosen
And after them came other tribes, unknown even to
The Ma-Shen, who had once known many brutal men.

Lastly of all came the fiercest of all tribes, only when
The Fayheran had been bloodied and slain by others
The Kz'kera, with their chieftain, a man of giant stature
Who boasted of how he would slay these impudent ones
Still standing before the gate, three at last, bloodied
By the battle, yet still unbowed, for all their wounds.

Gamesha turned to his companions, his rage checked
By the sight of their wounds: Saven's body had been
Marked by a sling-stone, launched by a desert-dweller
That had met his end at a glass knife's kiss, while, alas-
Shyreza bled from a ruined eye, having defended Saven
From a berserker from an unmarked tribe, at high cost.

To these, he said simply, let us fight one last time for
Every defender of the Olm- look, there, I see our foe
With a rutting smile upon his face, sending more fools
To fight us and seek our end. Let us slay him, so that
Our end might be glorious, and we might break these
Alliances arrayed against us, along with his rutting skull.

So the Kz'kera and three heroes came to fierce battle
And Shyreza defended Saven with her fiercest cries
As the chieftain of the Kz'kera and the Scarred King
Began their duel, which would be sung of until the end
Of all days- for the Kz'kera chieftain thrust his long spear
Beneath Gamesha's guard, and through his virile thigh.

Any other man would be broken by the loss of his scions
But the Scarred King had known pain far greater beneath
The shadow of the dragon that had ruined his fairness
And at the hands of his foes, who had cut him time and
Again, and so he grasped at that long spear and pulled it
From his thigh, blood running from the grievous wound.

The Scarred King now turned the weapon upon its owner
With a cry that echoed across the rocklands in its power
And thrust it straight through his adversary's body onto
The rocks, and then raised his hammer with a savage cry
And broke his foe upon the rocks with such force that
The Kz'kera for a moment faltered, frightened of their foe.

And in that moment, the Scarred King sprang through all
His foes, with the last of his hammers, bloody and worn
And tore through the guard of the Ghoulking, who feared
Battle, and by his side came Shyreza, half-blind yet terrible
And so too came Saven, broken-chested, yet still singing
High and terrible songs against the chill spells of their foe.

The hammer rose, the hammer fell, shattered in its fall.
The crown of the Ghoulking shattered, and all his spells.
Night became day in glorious light, and ghouls screamed.
Gamesha, broken-armed, fell. Saven, spear-cut, prayed.
Shyreza, weary, stood over them and fought for them.
And the Mother rose from her banks to protect the three.

Hear this truth! Gamesha arose from death on that day.
Shyreza was kissed by prophecy that day, blood-sealed.
Saven was touched by the Mother's river, and blessed.
These heroes were found outside the gate by the sortie
Led by the mighty Greenking, out to the flooded plain
And were carried with honor into the tents of the Olm.

The Story of the Kz'kera:

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This is tale of People, Kz'kera, in days when Kz'kera are strong and world kneels beneath Kz'kera.

Kz'kera chieftain is Arzek, as all chieftains be. His axe is strong. He slays many things that not be Kz'kera. He slays lions, he slays sand-wyrms, he slays wolves, he slays griffins and makes cloak from their bronze feathers, he slays minotaurs and makes axe from their bones. Arzek commands everything and leads Kz'kera to water. These days are days when black sand must be outrun. Arzek is cunning. Arzek lets black sand take Mshe, Not-People! Arzek is mighty and wise.

Man-of-bones comes to Kz'kera with ghouls made from every grain of sand in day's travel. Man-of-bones speaks with Arzek, tells Arzek, Mshe of north throw away strong idols, pray to woman instead. Mshe of north are foolish. Woman has no magic, just as Mshe have no magic. Arzek has man's magic, Kz'kera magic. Arzek declares that Kz'kera kill Mshe of north with Man-of-bones, rape woman-idol and take their copper-magic. Arzek says to Kz'kera, Kz'kera kill Man-of-bones when Man-of-bones kills Mshe of north with ghoul-magic. Arzek is cunning and mighty.

Kz'kera comes to valley-mouth, where rocks be teeth. Many Mshe be at valley-mouth. Some Mshe are known to Kz'kera, some Mshe are not. All Mshe are stupid and weak, ghoul-meat and Kz'kera-meat. Man-of-bones says, Kz'kera and Mshe go north under darkness with ghouls, kill Mshe of north, do not kill woman-idol, give Man-of-bones woman-idol. Man-of-bones declares that Man-of-bones take woman's magic, make him strong. Man-of-bones is foolish, and Kz'kera kill Man-of-bones and Mshe when Mshe of north are dead. Mshe will fail to kill Kz'kera, Kz'kera are cunning and swift.

Kz'kera go north with ghouls and Mshe of south. Kz'kera find small camps, hunt warriors of Mshe of north. Ghouls eat Mshe of north, but Mshe of south stupid, Mshe of south let Mshe of north escape. Man-of-bones says, Kz'kera and Mshe of south and ghouls go north swiftly under dark, kill Mshe of north so Mshe of north cannot use woman's magic. Kz'kera laugh, but Mshe of south tremble, and so Kz'kera and Mshe of south and ghouls run north beneath running clouds. Kz'kera see mother's breast rising from earth, know north is here.

Mshe of north wait for Kz'kera and Mshe of south and ghouls. Mshe of north have Man-of-Growth and Scar-Chieftain and Woman-Who-Is-Magic. On mountain-with-high-walls, Mshe of north wait for Kz'kera. Kz'kera wait to charge, let Mshe of south charge forward to be slain quickly. Earth rises, earth devours Mshe of south, earth flies through air as Man-of-Growth dances. Scar-Chieftain roar in fury, slay ten by ten Mshe of south, lead Mshe of north against Kz'kera and Man-of-Bones. Next to Scar-Chieftain always is White-Singer and Blood-Chieftain.

Man-of-Bones command Kz'kera, tell Arzek to keep Man-of-Bones alive in charge. Man-of-Bones is weak, begs strong Arzek for protection. Kz'kera are strong! Kz'kera force ghouls forward, laugh to see Mshe of north kill them. Scar-Chieftain of Mshe of north is strong, but Arzek is stronger. Mshe of south attack on every side, ghouls climb walls, Man-of-Growth too busy to see Kz'kera. Kz'kera force open gate, attack Mshe of north from behind, as strong hunters! Scar-Chieftain, White-Singer, Blood-Chieftain, all come to fight Arzek. Foolish Mshe! Arzek never dies! Scar-Chieftain run, slay five Kz'kera, fights Arzek! Arzek stabs with spear through Scar-Chieftain's armor, through thigh and legacy! Arzek is the strongest Kz'kera, Arzek is swift, Arzek is cunning!

Scar-Chieftain tear out spear, pin Arzek to ground through chest, crush Arzek's head with hammer. Scar-Chieftain screams like dragon, begins killing Kz'kera, ghouls, Mshe of south! Blood-Chieftain guards White-Singer, White-Singer makes ghouls scream and flee like dogs, Blood-Chieftain slays Kz'kera, slays Mshe of south. Scar-Chieftain, Blood-Chieftain, White-Singer, are not men, are spirits with strong magic. Arzek will lead Kz'kera to victory soon, Kz'kera run, cut through Mshe of south, battle with Mshe of south and Mshe of north at gate. Mshe of north pushed back, Mshe of south chase.

Man-of-Bones screams, ghouls run, Mshe of south run. Kz'kera run, river chases, Mshe of north chase, Mshe of south run, ghouls burn.

Kz'kera slay Mshe of north in days coming. Arzek is strongest chieftain, as all chieftains be. His axe is strong. He slays many things that not be Kz'kera. Arzek slays spirits, will slay spirits of Mshe of north.

The Story of the Goddess:

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The wolf was strong, and fierce, and swift. And Sonata was someone to cling to, to rest her head on, and to hold. To hold without lustful intentions, to know that one is loved without carnality, to know that one is protected.

The wolf knew the way, and so Fayruz did not need to touch its rough-furred head, to turn it this way or that. She was able to sleep, and to sleep without her dreams being full of the most awful things.

And tonight, her dreams were of home, and her people. She had to trust that both were safe, that both had not collapsed without her, that while she could not help them they had not been lost. She clutched her sister tightly, dreaming of an Olm empty and lost, and of a people who had sickened and died without her. And she cried on her sister's shoulder.

The Act of the Goddess:

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3 Major Acts spent on making three Exarchs:
- Gamesha, who has Divine Athletics, to represent his endurance and ability to ignore pain.
- Shyreza, who has Divine Inspiration, to represent her ability to not only make great art, but to teach its ways to others.
- Saven, who has Sorcery: Blessed Art, to represent the fact that he was the first to learn it, and has achieved skill with it only second to Fayruz.

[Kasanip]

Sonata and Fayruz return from Uluuvatar


Seeing Khalen to disappear so dramatically, Sonata was silent. She wanted to hurt Elanna very much. To devour her like a wolf, and to hurt her for revenge of Fayruz and for Khalen. But Khalen had done this already, and somehow, even if he wasn't here, Sonata felt that he would return. There wasn't anything she could do for him right now, but to help Fayruz away to the Olm. Trading a brother for her twin.

The Lightning Wolf was loyal, leaping here and there into the sky, and they left behind Elanna. Maybe she was sad, and maybe she was pitiful. But Sonata felt no sympathy for her now. The evening and events of Uluuvatar had burned all emotions brightly, until only there was an exhausted feeling.

But for now, she was together with Fayruz, with all emotions burned so brightly, and now aching and painful. The lightning wolf knew the way to The Olm, and Sonata, who held her safely sleeping and crying sister in her arms, only sang a quiet lullaby, and gently comforted her.

And Sonata looked up at the red moon as Fayruz slept, until the gentle sky prancing of the lightning wolf let her also sleep together with her sister, never to let go even one time.

[daelrog]

Daque stood on the west coast of the central continent. She stared to the west, her heart being pulled in that direction. The time spent with Shrivan had given her a much needed respite. Since coming to the Disk, it had all been violence and hate, and the incompetence of many of her brothers and sisters. Her fist cluthed around her spear. She would survive, she would prosper, and she would not falter again.

With her free hand she scooped up a small pile of sand. This is what her Father had created. A cruel, dark place. There were glimmers of hope, but apparently Baz'Auran thought that only through the deaths and scarring of his own would the Disk fit the image he wanted. She had no forgotten that although their departure was rushed, it had been delayed by mere days, not years.

Yes, to the Western continent, where she could sense fire on the winds, that is where her next destination was.

[Kasanip]

The death of the only one song of Aria, Aria Nel, and the repeating melody of the only one song of Aria, Aria Nnoi.


Though the Lady Sonata who had left to go find her sister, she had so entrusted to the wise foxes and most of all to Aria Nel, the only one song of Aria of the Hymmnoi, the protection and guidance of Ecchr, The Blessed City of Resonant Song

And of the Hymmnoi, though they have been mentioned before, they had not yet been revealed to the world outside of Ecchr. Of the Hymmnoi clans, who were arranged and named in order of seating: Aria, Ciela, Elysia, Tenoi, Presia, Partih, and Sarla. And the only one song of Aria, who was known before as Nel, had led dutifully and respected, since she was the first and blessed by helping Sonata, who had created the Hymmnoi through her.

However, to sing the divine song of the white city and the disk, of all the creation and it's memories, and so to preserve it truly the experience and time, it is too much for mortals. The Hymmnoi who were created by the Goddess of music, who taught such an Ar Maen to the Hymmnoi first, and of any mortal, they alone can match like the great choir of the White City, where Fayruz and Sonata once sang and played harmoniously. But on the disk, to sing with such a passion and power burns life quickly, and Aria Nel knew her end was close when she had 25 years.

So it was that Aria Nel called forward the Hymmnoi and Aria Nnoi was told to attend to Aria. In this way, the song of the life of Aria Nel recorded in her jewel was passed on, so too did the lineage and memories of Aria continue, and Nnoi became the only song of Aria, continuing it's melody.

But while Aria Nnoi understood completely now, all that had come of Aria Nel and Sonata, who had left Ecchr when Nnoi was only a child, now Aria Nnoi turned to her fox and to the council of foxes who served Renard, the chief fox, and asked their advice.

"Noble foxes of Kodama, the echo of the song of Heaven, our Lady Sonata has been gone for long, and now that the song of Aria has repeated once,
and now the Hymmnoi understand our tragedy and joy, what is the command of our Lady? We ask the noble foxes, who always have stood fondly with silver and gold coats.

So it was that gold and silver foxes of the council talked and fox-danced, and answered.

"It is the opinion of the foxes of Kodama, who love our Hymmnoi sisters, that such a question is important to Ecchr and Kodama, so that the Walasye and all of Gozan should know such an answer. We shall send messenger fox by rainbow to our fox chief Renard, who will ask the Lady Sonata."

So, it was done that the gold-coat fox of Aria clan was sent loyally to run the rainbow roads across the world.

[Tectonic Robot]

With tears and bloodshed, the Fayheran finally tossed off the yoke of fear put onto their backs by the terrible, lurking threat of the Ghoul King. With the words of the Cornking and the insight of the boy Lors, the terrible barbarians and beasts had been smote, and the real work could begin.

Llassar surveyed the lands of the Fayheran and found it lacking, dry, dusty. But there was one source of life available to it--the great river, who's spirit was called The Mother, who was healed by Fayruz. Llassar spoke to The Mother, and he struck a deal with her; the waters would rise up and turn the soil over, bringing fertility to the land, in exchange for a forever reverence of the river, which would be called The Haller (or overturner, in the language of Llassar's people.)

The lands around the Fayheran could now be used as fields, and Llassar began his work. His words of knowledge were spread far and wide over the Fayheran countryside. The fruit of Llassar's labors were manifold; the people's bellies were full, their backs clothed in cotton and linen, the sayings of Fayruz were copied down onto papyrus, and the Fayheran grew.

At this time, Llassar looked out with longing over the sea, and said, "I miss my own people, the people of the plains, the Llassians, and I must go and see them again. Tell Fayruz I will return to her, and that I will miss her and Sonata very much in the interlude between our meetings. Tell she is always welcome to visit my people, and I plan on visiting her once again." So Llassar left the lands of the Fayheran, but it is said that all over the world the golden scarecrow, the cornking appeared; and when he did, he brought fertility and knowledge with him. Finally, at the end of his labors, he returned to the great continent of the plains, to shepherd his people once again.

[Kasanip]

Aria Nnoi guides, Girasasa is founded with the only one song of Elysia, strangers are met.


It should be said that even to run by a rainbow and Golden Aria Fox, that there was some time before news could return. And it was this time that Aria Nnoi, the only one song of Aria, guided the Walasye of Ecchr. They had grown and spread, so that Gozan's five villages were towns, and so that the mountains could not contain them or the many foxes. So it was that such people left to go North, which Aria Nnoi gave in wisdom, and with them the only song of Elysia, who was Elysia Nel, went and came together to the sea. And while the Walasye had the meeting to decide to stay, the one song of Elysia heard the white birds sing and cry, and the waves call.

"This must be what was heard long ago, it is a nostalgic song." She thought, and so Elysia Nel told the Walasye that it was good to live here. And the city was called Girasasa.

Though the Walasye were not fishermen, they knew sailing for Ecchr was such a city on the lake of Madako. But it was not long before the Walasye were troubled by the far-away waters, because it was difficult and different and chaotic.

It is said that the first meeting of Jongo's people was such an occassion, that a boat of Walasye had collapsed, and so the dolphins rescued them to the beach. The love of music and play of the Jongo dolphins earned friendship quickly of foxes, who cannot swim, but who love such things as dancing, tricking, and listening to music.



Acts

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1 Minor Act: * Create a city or several towns. The gods create the citadels of their servants, raising up stones and forming streets with all the ease a mortal would paint a picture. They are not inherently magical, but the god may craft them however they wish.

[Gengy]

The First Lesson
Written by Dors, first Named of the Jongoscion

Our creator-father-mother stayed with us for 50 years before venturing out again. Creator-father-mother first seemed concerned that we would have trouble eating.

There were those of us who were confused by this. Could we not keep eating fish and kelp? Was it not still tasty? We asked creator-father-mother, and creator-father-mother said, "Yes, of course."

Then creator-father-mother laughed and laughed, with the great Alter-Ring spouting notes of playful discord, and soon, creator-father-mother was showing us the first Lesson.

How to change shape.

For most of us, it was simple. We remembered being Dolphins. Why shouldn't we be them again? So that is the first form we learned to change into.

For some of us, though, myself included, we wanted to be more than just Dolphins again. We wanted to have porpoise purpose. There were two among us who tried hard to shape change into larger versions of their Dolphin selves. Creator-father-mother clapped and cheered them on, and they did have some success, but only by a couple of feet.

Creator-father-mother assured us that those of us who practiced and were skilled with shape changing may one day be able to be as big as a whale, or small as a barracuda.

There were three among us who, after hearing this, tried to be a whale. They managed a Dolphin-like shape, but of different colors. The Orca-killer-danger whale colors. Black. White painted eyes.

All Jongoscion saw, and some were afraid. But there were four among us who had yet to change, and became Dolphins of varying colors. One changed into the deepest of blacks, more dark then the Orca-killer-danger colors, and quickly darted into a cave, where none could see him. One was blue as the ocean, and looked like a floating pair of green eyes. One was brown as the sand below, and when laying still, was nearly invisible. One chose to be the brightest sky-light-sun color I have ever seen, and Creator-father-mother seemed delighted by this.

Soon everyone - even those who had already changed their forms - was trying out different colors, just to get creator-father-mother to look at them.

"Stop, stop, my poor sides, I can't stop laughing." With joyful sorrow, our creator-father-mother asked us to stop making the ocean look like a rainbow. Many of us wanted to know what a rainbow was. Creator-father-mother smirked a grin that would become well known to all of us over the years, larger and wider than any we could make ourselves. With that smirk, creator-father-mother waved a hand, and the waters around us danced with light for just s moment. A long line of color, from red to orange to yellow to green to blue to indigo and then violet, curved around the Jongoscion before disappearing.

"That, my children, was a rainbow. You will see them in the skys, after a rain. You will see them from shiny stones, if the light hits them right. I can make the colors... but I am not my sister Lakespittle, who I think can make the light." We asked who Lakespittle was, and creator-father-mother just grinned again, and said, "That is another lesson. I'll tell you all about my family some other time. For now..."

Creator-father-mother looked out among us, the whole of the Jongoscion. We were changed back to Dolphins of various sizes and colors... except for me.

I had been trying. I really had. My arm would change to a flipper for a second, before becoming an arm again. My feet would merge to my tail briefly, but it would not stay. I had been trying to hide it, but I was beginning to think I could not change like the others.

Now, though, as the only one other than creator-father-mother who still looked as a Jongoscion, I could not hide it any longer.

"What's going on? Why do you wait?" Creator-father-mother sounded concerned, and I was ashamed even more. The Alter-ring made a long low note, and creator-father-mother said, "Hush, you. He is just having trouble, aren't you?"

::Yes, creator-father-mother. I cannot change.::

"Can't change? CAN'T change? Listen well, all of you. This is the meaning of the first lesson: Everything changes. Even the fish you eat change. They once were fish... and then they became food. Even the people you will meet change; but don't eat them, that'll be bad, and they probably won't taste very good. Still, they will change their way of thinking as they meet you. They will change how they act. They will be concerned, wary, unsure at first. But be kind to them, and that too will change. And if they ever - ever - try to hurt you, because of their fear, you must change. Become a Dolphin, or something else, and flee if you can. Fight only if you must. And then, if you must, fight well. Show them that the Jongoscion are fierce and tough, and make them change their minds about hurting us in the future."

Creator-father-mother turned to me, swam to my side, and said, only to me, "So. You say you cannot change? I say: You can. You can, young one."

Emboldened by creator-father-mother's trust in me, I tried again. I felt my body start to melt away, start to alter completely, felt my dolphin self returning!

But to my shame, it did not last. My fins became arms again, my tail became feet. I was in my own form once again, with it's two grey hands, and two grey legs, and no nose at all.

::I am sorry, creator-father-mother. I must be too young.:: That is the only reason I could think of. When I had answered The Call I had been but a newborn, following my Dolphin-parent-mother. And now, I was a newborn Jongoscion.

"No. I called you young one. I can change that too. From now on, I and the others shall call you Dors." This, creator-father-mother said loudly, almost to confirm it to him-her-self. But the others had heard. And they, like me, were confused.

::Dors? I do not know this word.::

"It is not a word, but a Name. It means: He who can change. Now Dors, he who can change, think hard. Think very hard about your Dolphin self. Think of the joy of flying through the water. Think of the fun of jumping through the waves. Think of your long nose, your glorious tail, your quick fins and long body, and become Dors... the Dolphin that can change."

And so I tried again. I was a Jongoscion. I was my creator-father-mother's child. I was my Dolphin-parent-mother's child. I was Dors.

I was one who could change.

And so I did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, we hunted fish as Dolphins. All of us. Even creator-father-mother, bigger then all of us, big as a whale, and bright red, with the Alter-ring looped around creator-father-mother's tail.

We all hunted for fish and kelp and food as Dolphins. All of us. Even me. Dors.

Over the next few days, the others would get names as well. Some would claim them themselves. Some would try and name others. A few, so very very few, would get a Name from creator-father-mother.

Always with the Naming, their would be a new Lesson.

But my Name was the first. My name is Dors.

And I am he who can change.

[shorewood]

William the Mason

I can still remember the first lesson lesson Haramhold taught me. It was years ago when I was still a boy. My father took me to the market one day it was a grand event, the entire city showed up to see the first block to be quarried within Sanctuaries walls. It would form the first stone of the great tower which would stand at the very center of Sanctuary. I don't remember much of the details of the speeches or the celebrations. But I do remember the red lady flying the orange and blue ship over the city, and the hard rock candy dad bought for me. At one point I must have wandered off I found myself at the piece of granite. It was HUGE. I remember looking up at it, and it just seemed to go on forever. The polished white marble had no discolorations, no cracks and no flaws. It was perfect.

"What do you think?"

Turning around I saw Haramhold our god. I'd never seen him this close before, Reaching down with a large hand he patted me on the head. I stammered for a few moments before managing to put a few sensible words together "Its so pretty, shouldn't it be put someplace everyone can see it?"

"But we will. Every time anyone gazes upon the tower. we will see it. Perhaps not directly but without it the tower would unable to stand as the foundation is the most important part of the entire building. Thus although we cannot see it we will know its there. "

As the years passed I always remembered those words. When I eventually met the infamous Jack it surprised me to learn that he too shared this view. But that is a story for another day.

[TheDarkDM]

Time passes...

Across the length and breadth of the Great Disk, humankind awakens to a new dawn, a dawn heralded by the fallen children of Baz'Auran. They tell stories that would pass into legend, of the liberation of radiant Fayruz from the dark pit of Uluuvatar, of Carolinus' journey into the very shadow of death, of Jongo Chaos-born's sculpting of new life from old. In these stories is born the hope of a better world, a world where the weak need not fear the mighty, and where the shadows of night do not hide hungry eyes.

Time passes, and the peoples of Markien, Salus, the Olm, and every city blessed by the divine grow old, and die, only to be replaced by a new generation. For the first time in history, children on the Disk grow without knowing hunger. For the first time, humans begin to look beyond family and tribe, to embrace one another as brother and sister beneath the benevolent auspices of their saviors. The warm light of worship flares to life in the hearts of Baz'Auran's children, the sole reward those simple, desperate mortals can give to those who have come to rule them.

Yet more pressing concerns than mortal adoration loom before the gods. As the years pass, sparks flicker to life in their perception, primitive and crude compared to Baz'Auran's children but mighty all the same. None can say what these presences portend, but it is certain that something is growing upon the disk, something beyond the ken of even the gods.

And on the edges of civilization, far darker entities take their places...

On the borders of Fex, a patrol is set upon by a sudden blizzard at the height of summer, their weapons and armor are rimed with frost within minutes. Within minutes more, the living are dead, leaving their revenant brothers to watch as a bolt of purest black emerges from the center of the storm, striking a nearby mountaintop. The old stone is obliterated in a flash, leaving nought but a glassed crater in its wake. And yet, miraculously, long dead eyes see a figure from the edge of the devastation. It utters but a word, and the revenants shatter like glass, leaving no witnesses.

Far from the divine borders of Salus, waves crash against the shores of its island. There cliffs and beaches are of divine craft, sculpted in time immemorial, and yet they shudder and crack beneath the onslaught. Brave fishermen are rewarded with a painful death, and with every passing week more refugees from the coast arrive at the divine wall, bearing tales of a relentless, gluttonous sea and the dark shadows that prowl its edge. In the Sea of Jongo, Jongoscion begin to go missing, those few curious and brave enough to wander from Jongo's sight disappearing without a trace.

Beyond the borders of the Fayheran, past the rolling waste, a black fume rises into the sky. It is faint, at first, a stain easily forgotten. But within a decade, it is a permanent fixture, a black scar rending the horizon. For the time being, the chosen of Fayruz live and grow in peace, but the people of the desert are no fools, and with every dawn their dread grows.

In the rainbow vales of Sonata, foxes begin to go missing. At first, it is simply a few scattered dens, but eventually her adopted family turn their pleas towards the goddess of rain, seeking salvation for their vanished brethren.

And in the dead of night on the last day of the fifth decade, a star falls from the sky.

It is a night all remember, for none who heard the single, mournful wail echoing down from on high could find peace in the darkness. Across the Disk, mortals and gods alike stared towards the crimson remnants of the White City, and watched a streak of fire blaze across the sky. So bright was it that its trail lasted until morning, driving ever westward until it impacted the great volcanoes of the Forge-born. The impact shook the ancient sentinels like a bell, and as the toll of obsidian rippled through the ground the Forge-born's eyes leapt open. Their fiery orbs clouded by the madness of the Ash Dream, they looked to the center of their dark city, and watched their new god rise on burning wings.

Turn 3 Begins

[Grimsage Matt]

Beneath the Sea of Jongo

Another cycle, and who knows what awaits around the next turn of the tunnel? This cavern for instance. The magma flowing down into cistern, the glowing mushroom, red, green, blue, purple. The water dripping into the lake, the glowing crystal with the glowing light of the magma relected and refracted. The lizards, the moths, the swearing toads.

Life is good.

As Torvaag walks through the cavern, he nods and feels at peace. This little section of the underworld is safe at least. With invaders trashing the surface, and their minions digging up and mutilating the earth, and them damn titans wanting to get everyone under their sway. Well, never was, never will be.

But, work is work. Little brothers and sisters got into some kind of trouble. Some sort of dream thing, and since those meddling Invaders showed up at the same time, well, they better fix whatever the hell they did! Gods, they never stop to think about what they're about to do, and it's ripples. They should just leave well enough enough alone, and go away. At least the Titans are from here.

Well, one of them gods should be just through this. Time to track down this whelp, and tell him to lift whatever curse they placed on my siblings.

And as the man sized creature of volcanic rock, and burning eyes steped into the magma vent. That little voice piped up. This is going to hurt.

The Magma itself does not hurt, as he was born from it. And as he hurtles upwards, he continues to fume. Why did the gods even come here? The big mug didn't care about this place even when he had the titans in charge, and look what he did to them.

Wonder if the whelp will listen, or if my first guess be right. Odds be, the only way ter git a god to listen is with a stout slab of rock upside the head. But someone needs ter complain ter 'em. I mean, they came to our home, and set themselves up, without so much as a by your leave! Odds are, the punks are wrecking things because they don't understand anything. Well, I'll just give them a peice of my mind!

The Bottom of the Sea of Jongo

And then the magma ends.

The burstin is me only problem wit the magma vents, never did like that 'sky' thing. Wonder what it's like now....

And then, he bursts. Not into air, but something else. Water! Damn, damn damn! Already, he's cooling off, turning stiff. Soon, he'll be no more then a damn rock formation on this damn sea bed. Damn gods... And what the bedrock is that bugger?

like them fish in the underseas, but sleeker. Round noses. Very intresting colors. Wonder what god changed them? And before he lost all movement, he muttered something, causing a breift plume of steam to swirl around him.

"Gods, why can't they leave anything alone?"

[shorewood]

Haramhold

Haramhold spent many years laboring beside his people. Teaching them what secrets of stone and metal they were ready to learn. Equipped with this knowledge the city of Salus grew Grand. Smooth paved streets radiating out from the Tower of Salus, ran between tall strong buildings of marble and granite. Domed halls and open gardens available to all were scattered across the city. The city gleamed with splendor and wealth. New sewer systems that carried waste away and public bath houses kept the population healthy.

Not only did the city of Salus expand during this time but the realm grew inside its walls to accommodate the ballooning population. Several smaller communities sprang up within this new territory. These were mostly populated by refugee's as many were unused to cities and preferred the more rural setting.

Amanda after returning from sending aid to Carolinus spent a good portion of her time caring for Green MorningStar, inspecting new refugee's to make sure no beast of chaos sneaked in and ferrying refugees that reached the protection of the realm to where they would be settled within it. Every ten years Amanda would make the perilous trip to the Maikien, to rotate out the two hundred men that Haramhold keeps perpetually stationed there until such time that the titan's threat is no more.

Haramhold divided his time between building the city and designing the Nexus a project which has become an obsession with him as the years progressed. Finally after a half a century it was complete. But he could not build it alone it was too great a task for his hands alone. So Haramhold sent out a call to his siblings outlining his purpose and need. It echoed in the cry of a hammer as it struck iron burning red and yellow. It wound its way into the weaving of tapestries and baskets. It could be heard in the creaking of wood as it is bent into shape. All things newly made bore the message for those with the skill or the knowledge to percieve it.

Acts spent during 50 year time jump

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1 minor-Teach Masonry: Teach the people of Salus the secrets of the arch, and the dome as well as improving their stone working skills. This will allow them to build the previously mentioned domes and sewer systems.

1 minor-Create city: This represents Haramhold's part in Salus's reconstruction. It is a beautiful city, to any other gods who still remember the white city from which they were born would see a strong resemblance between the two. Since the populace did a large share of the work any "left over" act (if there is any at all) goes into teaching them stonework.

1 minor-Bless population

1 major-Up domain (craft)

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Amanda

My friend Elle died today. The funeral and short and heartfelt, crowded by children and grand children. We had been childhood friends since the founding of Salus. How we would laugh and giggle at life. I remember attending her wedding to a Mason named William. He was a good man, he's gone now too. I remember them getting older. Every wrinkle every grey hair that sprang upon the heads I remember all of it. I haven't aged a day since I became an Exarch. Its odd being immortal, watching those you care for whither as the years pass by as you yourself are immune to time's passing. It doesn't seem to bother my beloved Haramhold greatly. But then again he is a god these things must appear differently to him.

But I am not, I am... was just a human. A mere mortal whom either by fate or chance became something more. Elle was the last of those whom I befriended before becoming an exarch. The rest have been sleeping beneath the earth for some time now. I have made other friends but it can not compare, they see me as the red lady, the wife of Haramhold. They never knew me as just plain Amanda.

There is one other human whom I can talk to without hearing awe in his Voice. Jack, the King of thieves. We were enemies for a long time. But old enemies are as good as friends. I don't think he's going to last much longer either, He's been bedridden more often then not these past few months. I visited him after the funeral and had to wait for him to finish giving a pair of young louts a tongue lashing for breaking the thieves code. I didn't mind. When the boys scampered off I entered the room to find him hacking into handkerchief, dark wet blood staining the cloth.

We talked for a few hours about nothing important it was just nice to hear his voice again. But Jack had to sleep, for he had a big day ahead of him tomorrow and long gone was the time when he stay awake for three days and nights.

Truth be told I had a lot of work that needed to be done anyway. The Jongo day festival was tomorrow and I still had to finish decorating Green MorningStar for the celebration.
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Jack the Thief

I got up hours before dawn. I wanted to get to where I was going before the Jongo day celebration crowded the streets. I bathed in cold water and ate my last heal of bread and wedge of cheese. I hadn't bothered to buy more. I don't eat much these days and I doubt that I'd last long enough for it to matter.

As I tugged on my heavy cloak picked up my oaken cane I keep on a peg near the door I go over Amanda's visit last night in my head. It had been nice to see a familiar face. To talk with someone who was not scared of death of me. I chuckled at that, I had been leaning on my reputation more and more during these past few years and the underworld of Salus had very little to actually fear from me, not that I let them know that.

Slipping out into the chilly predawn air a hacking cough comes over me. It takes me several minutes to recover and my last clean handkerchief is now soiled. "perfect" I mutter under my breath.

The cough has been getting worse and worse recently. Not that it would matter for much longer. I made my way through the empty streets to a small house painted every color under the rainbow. It too is also empty, but with any luck its owner would grace it with his or her I forget which presence.

I push open the pine door with a shaking arm. I swear someone must have filled this door with lead. It wasn't nearly as heavy as it was when I last visited here fifty years ago. Anyway making my way to the kitchen I drag a chair before the sigil which hung above the mantel. Collapsing into the chair it takes me a few minutes to catch my breath as I wiped the sweat from my brow with a shaking hand.

I don't know the ways of gods. Haramhold is simple enough but from what I can tell his siblings quite different. Jongo in particular. By either chance or fate I ended up helping this enigma of a god and was given a favor. Well I don't know what happens after we die but I'll be dammed if this favor ties my soul down in any way. My life is my own and so should be my death. Looking up at the Symbol of Chaos I call out Jongo's name, hopefully to summon him and release her from any debt that he feels toward me.

details on Jongo day

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Jongo day is the annual celebration of Jongo's first visit to Salus. The first of the children of the white city to be reunited with Haramhold. As with the usual merriment and music that accompanies such things their is a tradition amongst the children. Each child dawns a painted mask and scampers about collecting sweets from the adults. When ever a kid touches the mask of another kid they must immediately swap masks.

[Gengy]

Jongo, Ever-Changing
Turn 3

The Sea of Jongo had been a nice place to come back to. Jongo knew every rock now, knew every cavern, could find the hidden spots that only the smallest of fish could get into. There were a few mermaids in the area, but most of them were old and unattached. The Jongoscion treated them as friends, and Jongo saw them as good people to practice speaking with.

Forty years ago, Jongo had started insisting that his children start talking out loud whenever possible. They needed to get used to it. The mermaids were pleasant to speak with, normally, and most of them found Jongoscion amusing.

Now, everyone was talking just fine. Jongoscion were getting ready to venture out on land. A few already had. Jongo had personally watched Dors take his first steps out of the ocean. Clever little Dors had quickly become a celebrity among the Jongoscion, and had lived up to the name Jongo had given him. Dors was now one of the more practiced and experienced shifters, able to take several different forms. Dors had headed on land to find new experiences, and live his life.

That had been... two years ago? Three? Jongo kept losing track of time. When not answering questions or teaching the Jongoscion something new, Jongo spent most of his time just... watching the Disk change from that weird perspective that Jongo seemed to have. There were some... unusual things happening, that Jongo couldn't explain, but would get to eventually, she was sure.

The Jongoscion came first. They needed to be able to defend themselves. Sustain themselves. Jongo began to rely on many of them, giving them titles. There were several "Dorphs" now; leaders and protectors of different superpods. There were quite a few "Gwenies"; gifted students who picked up a bit of Jongo's Wild Magic and abilities to speak with water. There was even a "Lors" or two; real delightful Jongoscion who everyone loved to have around, and were important for their own reasons.

Jongo delighted in all of his children. She was sad that soon - Jongo didn't know when, but soon - he would have to leave them for a while.

The Band of Chaos was still the same. Still up to it's tricks. It had played a symphony of beautiful music almost two and half decades ago when Jongo had had to chase away two mating Dragon Eels that came too close to the Sea of Jongo. How they even got to such calm waters, Jongo didn't know, but with the Band's help, she showed them that Dragon Eels were *not* Dragons, no matter what some sailors called them. The Eels couldn't fly, and did not like being thrown by mini-tornados towards the hot waters north west of the Sea of Jongo.

The Band of Chaos was otherwise rather subdued, compared to the times when Jongo had traveled around a lot. Which, for now was fine. But Jongo felt it's unease and restlessness, and knew things were going to be different soon.

When the star fell from the sky, on that clear summer's night, Jongo sighed. It was time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now look, Dorph Ronnie, I'm not happy about this either. But something's going on. Jongoscion are disappearing, there are stars falling from the sky, I must do something. You guys have had years of combat training. With that and the tricks that you and the other Dorphs can do, combined with the Gwenies, you shall be quite fine, I'm sure! Just remember, it's not a fight unless the other side is dumb enough to follow you into the water. Run when you can, and above all..."

"I know, Creator-Father-Mother. Don't die." Bigger than most Jongoscion, Dorph Ronnie was skilled in shifting as well. He'd do fine as a leader for now.

"And what do you do if more of you start disappearing too much while I am gone?" Jongo knew Ronnie knew the answer, but couldn't help being concerned. Things were going to be different. And Jongo couldn't tell if that was going to be a good thing this time. Not yet.

"We call for you, or Lord Veldimarus."

"Good, and..."

"Creator-Father-Mother! Creator-Father-Mother!" A small slip of a Jongoscion, in dolphin form - grey with purple spots, which meant... Val? Yes, Val - came shooting towards them.

"I'm speaking with Ronnie, Val. I was getting ready to leave. I've got things to attend to. I think I should go see my siblings again. Make sure they are all alright. And let them know I'm ok too."

"Do you have to go, Creator-Father-Mother?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do. Now, quit being a calf, and let me finish my talk with Ronnie. It's important."

"Oh. But..."

"Yes?"

"I just thought you might want to see the grumbling rock I found."

"A rock? What do I need with..." The Band of Chaos interrupted, tooting a long low note, and Jongo was suddenly elsewhere. At least, part of her was.

The water basin inside the hut in Salus began to ripple and rise, and soon, standing before Jack, there was a miniature version of Jongo, looking like a shimmering shifting human child in a smock made of even lighter water.

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"Oh. Hello. I'd almost forgotten about you! You are the human in Salus who saved me that one time, right? Boy, you have gotten old! What can I do for you? I don't mean to rush you; normally I'm in no hurry, but today, I'm getting ready for a trip, and I've got to do some looking around for some missing friends of mine, and to top it off, I just heard of a grumbling rock that may be interesting to look at but probably isn't, because children can see the strangest things of the most normal everyday stuff. Anyways, here I go babbling again. Must be the watery form. Echum. Is that a festival I think I see outside?" Jongo, two feet tall and dripping into the water basin, peered out of the windows at what little he could see of Salus.

Salus had changed. It looked so nice here. Jongo would certainly have to make a pit stop, just to say hi to Butterfly and Amanda-dear.

Shaking her head, Jongo looked back at the human. Old, wrinkled, sickly... but there was still that look of something more in him.

Some time later, Jongo shook himself back into her own body.

"Well. That... was interesting." Not at all what Jongo had been expecting.

"Creator-Father-Mother? Are you all right?" Dorph Ronnie, Val, and several other Jongoscion were gathered nearby. They'd moved Jongo's body to a bed of seaweed and coral.

"Yes, yes, no need to fuss over me, children. I'm fine. Just got a call that I wasn't quite expecting, you could say. Well, I should have expected it eventually. I did promise. Anyways... Val. You were saying something about a grumbling rock?"

"Yes, Creator-Father-Mother. It was complaining about Gods not leaving anything alone, and then it just... hardened up. It was warm and glowing to begin with, which is what caught my eye. The water I was in wasn't supposed to be that warm, or that bright. But it was! And then there was this rush of water from the ground, and the grumbly rock burst from it!" Val was very animated as she explained, and everyone giggled and laughed at her hand motions and her shifting form and she tried to imitate the colors of the rock and began to sink before she caught herself.

"All right. I'll come take a look. It's a good place to start my journey anyways. Dorph Ronnie, you know what to do. Stay alive. At all costs. You don't want to meet my sister Avyra... she's scary." Jongo grinned a big smirk and looked out at all of the Jongoscion gathered.

"I promise, I'll come back whenever I can, and you can always gather a super-pod to call me back quickly if needed. I've shown you what to do!"

With that, Jongo followed Val and swam away.

It's hard to cry underwater, but Jongo felt tears forming and steeled her thoughts to scare them away. Was this what Father had been feeling on the night of the Banquet, so long ago?

And why could Jongo still not get the taste of that Apple out of his memory?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Val led them further and further from the super-pod's swimming grounds. They both swam as Dolphins; Val in her grey with purple spots, and Jongo as the double sized red Dolphin she'd begun to like so much.

"What were you doing out here, child? You know it's been dangerous to be alone recently. If I wasn't leaving, I'd have half a mind to..." Jongo fell silent.

The water was hot.

Very hot.

An underwater volcano had erupted here. Earth and rocks scattered through the ocean water. Jongo had been meaning to talk with the Earth. It seemed only fair. But... uggghhh... rocks were... rocks were...

A flash of the White City. The day of the Banquet. Khalen-Fish and Jongo had been fighting. What had Jongo said?

"And besides, who wants to be a rock? Rocks are boring!"

Right. Rocks were boring. So Jongo had been putting off talking with rocks.

Now it seemed he'd have a rather unpleasant reason to speak with them.

"There, Creator-Father-Mother!" Val pointed, and in the distance, beyond the dust, Jongo could see a very oddly shaped rock. It was stiff as a stone should be. But... were those eyes? Were they actually watching?

"Stay here, child." Jongo swam forward, and whispered some words to the water as she went.

"Oceans deep, currents strong, help me lift this rock along. Oh, hey! That ryhmed. Neat. Did you like that? Let me try more. Let's let it cool, high and dry, push it up to see the sky!" Jongo giggled and the Band of Chaos joined in the laughter. It was probably a bit disturbing, but Jongo didn't care.

Jongo had questions.

Soon, the water swirled and pushed, and shooting higher and higher, the oddly shaped rock was soon off the ocean floor, rising with an unnatural current, and floating quickly towards the night sky.

Jongo followed, and called to the winds. "He'll be heavy, but please, hold him above the water. He'll sink otherwise, and it didn't look comfy to me for him to be down there. Just... give him a cloud to rest on, if there is one nearby? Please?"

The wind didn't answer. The Band of Chaos tittered.

"What do mean it's jealous? Of what? Oh. Well. I could see that, I guess. Ummm... hang on, let me think..."

"I didn't mean to slight you, only to entice and delight you. Now please don't crowd, but give that rock a cloud?"

Jongo could feel the air begin to move now, and a small cloud dropped lower from the sky. With a bit more work, Jongo was able to jump into the air at the same time as the rock-thing, and both landed on the cloud. Jongo quickly changed from being a large red dolphin to being a small human child again. After five decades of being mostly a shining Jongoscion, the human child form felt good.

As he and the rock were landing, Jongo asked the water in the cloud to hold them both, and it obliged without protest.

"Good. Rhyming is fun, but I think I'm done." The Band of Chaos let out a high rapid note, like a short bit of laughter. Jongo sighed. "Or not. Echum."

"You there. The rock. Hello? Can you... can you hear me? I didn't mean to be rude by ignoring rocks for all these years, I just... well, I don't really understand you guys much. Father and Khalen-Fish were always more interested in that. Oh, and Cookie kinda liked dirt. And Monkey. I miss Monkey. Anyways, if you can hear me, and feel like talking, I'm wondering if you might answer a few questions? Like, why were you grumbling at my Val earlier?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@Shorewood - We'll use the loophole I've created there to have Jongo and Jack's conversation. Feel free to just respond as normal, and we'll try to keep it as linear as possible. Also. I LOVE JONGO DAY. Halloween with Mandatory Mask Swapping Rules? Jongo needs to find out more.

@Grim - I thought I'd have some more time before I started talking with Torvaag, but this is fun! Please feel free to react to the strange talking red dolphin that changed into a human child and is now talking to you on a cloud while you warm up under the night sky!

@Dark - spending 2 Minor

(1) Teaching the Jongoscion over 50 years to fend for themselves with their inherent abilities

(2) Creating several "level 6" servants of moderate power; these are the Dorphs, the Gwenies, the Lors... aka, Fighters, Sorcerors, Bards, if we use DnD terms

[Grimsage Matt]

First, there was the sea. Then there was that fish-thing that some god changed. Now, one of them, one of them damn outsiders, is liff... heights.. not good!!! But at least I'm out of the water, better try and heat back up..

It takes a few minutes, but the rock starts to glow, to almost melt. It starts with the eyes, becoming molten pools, shifting between black and red, with golden flecks swimming in them. His rough hide, battered and almost glossy, polished obsidian, with a wild bread of pumice.

The, it's arms creak and move, and his neck shifts, letting out a creaking sound, like the shifting of entire plates. Then it's eyes narrow.

"My name is not 'rock' youngin. I be Torvaag of the Grimdeep, eldest of the elemental's, and firstborn of all creatures native to this world. And ye must be one of them meddling outsiders! You bloody gods, you can never leave the world be can ye? We were doing fine before you came, and then you and yours showed up!"

He's gesturing wildly, and seems to be quite agitated, and his skin is cracking, molten rock poking through the surface, burning bands of color. And his teeth, once diamond like, seem to darken, becoming like flint.

"Soon as you buggers showed up, you started tampering with things! My little brothers and sisters, them poor forge born, they got cast into a ash dream, you let loose the titans and you woke things up that should never have woken! And you never bothered asking the world if it wanted to go along with ye! Ye just went along and forced it to do what ye wanted, with no thought to any of the ripples you'd cause! Do you have any idea how much pain the earths in? Can't you hear her moaning?"

With this, he seems to be very, very sad, but also angry, as if he's been repressing a urge to do something like this for a while. But he's not yet done, and he's skin is cracking even more, showing almost volcanic activity, and the water near his feet is starting to steam and boil. He's not hostile, he's just emotional.

"And ye can't even let them creatures of the world be can ye? Ye had to change them to be yours, not the worlds. Why is it that ye invaders cannot feel her? Why is it that you recklessly charge foreword and never even consider the consequences? Never saw him since the world started to cool, but I'm thinking the boss would have taught you better!"

He delivers the last not in a lecturing voice, but a exasperated sigh. He's trying to understand you, but he just can't get you. And that was the last outburst, as his hide calms down, returning to its stone like appearance, with only the occasional little eruption.

He sits down, leaning on a staff of Basalt, with a orb of pumice and quartz set in the top and looks at you, his expression tired.

"Just let the forge born out of the ash dream. We never did anything to you, so why did you even do it to them?"

But all the time he was talking, or border line ranting, he was hunching up, and nervously glancing up at the sky, then down, then right at you.

Too open, this is no good place. Why did I ever come to the surface? Could have walked the underoads and freed them me self...

[Erik Vale]

"Just to be that man who Walk a Thousand Miles to Fall Down at your Door ..."

Kalandor spent many a decade amoungst his chosen peoples, of them all. The few Orc tribes, the many and varied Bestial tribes, and the many customed Human tribes. Where you to ask him to draw you a map, he could give you an almost perfect one, with every tribe and their every route drawn on. His form had shifted more times than most people lived in years, even with him often falling back on the Travelling Trio, who were renkowned, but not yet connected with Kalandor, as Ageless wanderers, demigods in their own right, Lords of wisdom, luck, warfare, and many things beside.

He watched some of his people become dreamers (and spent time in their realm), he did not object, as those who went went willingly. He learned of his people, their habbits, how he could best help, both in the real world and in others. For most he simply gave gentle nudging, but his blessings lay upon the people, and they were happy, the larges herds, the weird and common artifacts of trade. There was not yet money, but that abstract notion was begining to arise, and he had taught man the begining of the presets of poper farming, they had begun becoming herders, and simple animal domestication spread wild.
Dear god he never knew dogs would become so darn common, he really had been forced to learn to get his odours right, they weren't polite enough to not ask, and even then Orcs occasionally slipped.
And that was fun.

But there was only so much travel you could actually do in a land so well known, and he began becoming restless.
Unlike other gods, he was not the sort to sit down and help his people. And he had been, for a while in a myrad of small ways.

On the day and night of the meteor, Kalandor began to feel a pull, not to the meteor, but something else, where he to check his radar, he would have felt it to be to a small western isle off the coast of the central continent, but he wasn't the sort to do that.
And so, he began drifting towards it, travelling through one last time some of his many varied people.

((Act Expenditure))

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Tentative, Pending a PM Reply from Dark

2 Major: Teach a School of Magic (See Below Spoiler)
1 Major: Domain Increase (Travel to 3)
1 Minor: Bless the General Beastmen, Orc and Human Populations under Kalandor. (Most likely to Drop after PM response)
1 Minor: Teach Herding to Human/Orc/Beastial Populations (May Precipitate Farming, will natually spread across to non-Kalandor populations due to trading.).

Acts Remaining: 1 Major, 1 Minor, 3 Ceromonies.

The Channeled Art

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The Channeled art is unlike most other magics, and has most akin to the shamanistic practices of the Bestial Beings, also, it is somewhat innate.

The Main way this art is different, is that it is based around enhancing ones own skills, and only with the greatest difficulty, can it actually be used to modify the outside environment, for example a human child who mastered this are (somehow) would be better able to throw a 250kg rock at something 50m away, then to use it to telekinetically lift a 100kg log 50m away from him.

Also, how the powers are unlocked is rather different. In truth, Kalandor has really awakened a potential, (and now those who come in contact with those that have the potential will slowly gain it, yay trading) in truth, to gain the powers of the art, one needs to practice an inordinate amount of time, or they must perform the task themselves. It is more akin to a natural luck. Rouges become able to pick locks (ok, there are no locks yet but still) with great ease, warriors, who have once strained to save a man from a boulder, lifting it a few centimeters to let a man crawl out from beneath it would at a later date, be able to hold it with greater ease, and lift it further, dispite never having done so in between, or even training.
It is, in its simplist for, the mind accessing the lattent magic around the being, and channelling it into the body for greater succes, and it is best learned by doing. Often in times of stress, in truth, since its spread tales of Heroes have become more common for just this reason. (However, to become a superhero is a little beyond the capacity for most beings, even an Orc or the mighteist of the humanoid beastials, would have trouble throwing around .5-1ton boulders no matter how much they tried (pending Frellon telling me they can normally do that).
This magic is often assisted by charms, which has seen a further rise, to the point where charms are valued almost as much as religeous symbols (some priest of Kalandor however see these as the truest religeous symbols and Kalandor is willing to leave them to their debates.).

This are can also, as per its namesake, be channeled through ritual, this has changed some of the aspects of Bestial beings shamanism, who now incorperate this art into their normal ellemental rituals, using its enhancement to enhance their own rituals. For example they now have about a 10% chance for the oldest and most experienced to almost call a flood during a drought instead of perhaps a 1% chance.
Also, (in contradiction to the child levitating thing above), withuse of proper ritual and time, shamans can often imbue others, and affect places distant (this however becomes steadily more exhausting, requiring multiple practitioners), with it not so much becoming ease but time becoming used up, however this is entirely for and only for rituals, as the mind does not attempt to channal magic subconciously, but actively bends it to the minds will.
This has seen a rise in what is (to my mind, feel free to call me wrong), Wicca, Totamism, and other similar types of magic.

[Gengy]

Jongo meets Torvaag

Jongo sits down.

The small human child seems stunned, and is very quiet, scrunching up his face to look closely at the rock, no, at...

"Torvaag? THE Torvaag?" With a burst of energy, Jongo leaps from where he was sitting and is suddenly rushing around the deep rocky skin of Torvaag, as though trying to get a better look at him from all sides.

"OhmyFather.Noway.Noway.NOWAY. IT IS YOU." Jongo grinned and squealed with delight. "I used to watch you from Father's Crystal Ceiling. I think He used some of YOUR Crystal to make it. He let me see as you made caverns and dug through the Disk. He always seemed to like you. Well. With Father you couldn't always tell. But he let me watch you work all the time! I think we were born around the same time, actually. It's a pleasure to meet you, Torvaag!

Oh, but where are my manners. You are right, Father did teach me better. Or, the spirits did. Echum."

Jongo stopped running around, and stepped back. With a careful look, Jongo grew herself to be the same height as Torvaag, and politely bowed at the waist, saying, "Torvaag Grimdeep, Elder Elemental, it is my honor to introduce myself. I am Jongo, Eldest Child of Baz'Auran, born of Chaos in the earliest of times, and reborn of Chaos within these last few centuries. Our Father was going to send us here, peacefully... but, well. Look."

Jongo pointed towards the blood red moon in the sky, still causing the night to be bathed in an eerie crimson. In that moment, Jongo realized... there were creatures on the Disk who had never known what the night sky really should look like.

"Something invaded the White City. My Siblings and I have been trying to figure out what, and how we can get back there. I am sorry, for all of us, if we have disturbed you. I know that, whenever I can, I try to ask the forces of the Disk to help me. The Water and the Air that now holds us above the ocean are my friends. I'm afraid I don't quite understand Earth, and Fire... well, you know, now that I think of it, I've never quite tried to talk with Fire either. Never had a reason, I guess.

As to 'them creatures'... please don't speak of my children that way. I called for willing volunteers from Dolphins across the Disk, and they came to me. A honorable cloud willingly gave it's lifeforce to help create them. One of the oldest Dragons around bore witness, as I danced with all the magics I know to shape them into what they are now. My Jongoscion had a choice. They still do. Anyone of them can shift into a Dolphin again, and never shift back, if they wanted.

I imagine that I feel about them like you must feel about your... forge born, was it? I don't know anything about them, or why they are in this... ash dream. But I could find out, I think, if you wanted?"

[BladeofObliviom]

Over the Sea of Jongo

One would be forgiven for not noticing a tiny brown speck in the skies above the horizon. Pyra was flying fairly high, after all, and even a Roc might not attract too much attention from such a distance.

Of course, what might be just a tad more noticeable is the *SPLOOSH* sound that goes along with a body entering water at high velocity. A young woman, dressed in a conservative black outfit, erupts from the water moments later.

Roselia searches the horizon. Seeing nothing, she turns her godly senses loose, searching for a brother or sister. Seeing a blip on that radar, she began to swim towards the nearest source.

Jongo might be in for a bit of a surprise.


Several minutes earlier...

Pyra felt just a slight amount of bulk shift off of her back, and calmly began speaking to Faden.

"You do realize that your sister just leaped off of me?"

"Yes. She'll be fine. I'm sure she has her reasons."

"But why?!"

"...I have no idea. And good luck getting a straight answer out of her."

[Grimsage Matt]

So, the boss kept a eye on the disk after he left. Seeing how the titans went, didn't think he paid that much attention.

And seeing Jongo's outburst, he gets slightly embarassed. He got worked up again. Shouldn't have done that. Should probobly apologize, this un don't seem that bad, and can always ask the winds and water.

Torvaag grumbles out something. It's not in the toungue if gods or mortals, but that of the world. His accent is noticable. When he speaks of wind, it sounds like air wistling through chimes, and his water speech is that of dripping stone. As they confirm what Jongo said, he almost relaxes. He is a volcano elemental on a cloud after all.

"Sorry bout the presumption, they're voching fir ye, so you can't be completly bad. And sorry bout your kids. Only family I ever knew where my little brothers and sisters, and they were right terrors sometime."

He sighes, and the gust if air, while heated, isn't much more then a daytime breeze.

"It's just with all that's been going on, with the titans getting out, things creeping in, and the others lost, it's been a bad few decades."

And all of a sudden, he thinks of something. This here feller, he's probobly one if the better gods. If he's grounded a bit, he might even help get them gods to respect the world a bit more.

"Jongo, yer never talked to the earth? Want me to give yer some pointers?"

[Raz_Fox]

The Age Ends

His hair was easy to bind when it was black. Silver-white hair slides through calloused fingers. It is long, womanly hair, like that of the maiden who he saw in the darkness beneath the Olm. He insists on putting on his own garb. White wool slides over sun-darkened skin. The veil scratches against the scruff of his chin. It's no longer dark. She marked him.

He takes his staff when he leaves his tent, placing his hand calmingly on young Marrow-tooth's shoulder as he passes. It's cut and stained. Thick enough to support his weight. His hand falls naturally into a groove.

The day is not yet at its hottest. The Olm lies weary beneath the sun even so. There are, perhaps, only as many lost as the day of Black Sand. Maybe less, maybe more. He doesn't care to count. It is good that white-robed figures kneel here, there. He sees Seiman, kneeling, singing with hands outstretched. He sees Arejeh, holding a widow to her breast, whispering kindness.

He, too, will see to this. But first he must hear from his blood-brother. He finds him far below the tents, and there is in him the fierceness of a cunning beast. The image will be in his mind forever: Gamesha, standing stark against the rising sun, his chest bared, his face in shadow. He was narrow, before, despite his strength, all knife-point bones and ribs, sharpened teeth crooked in his mouth, sudden movements and lean laughs.

Now he is not a stripling calf grown lanky, but a bull, still leanly-coiled and crooked as he steps down to meet his blood-brother, but not awkwardly so. His whipcord muscles are thicker, his arms are the slender staves that are made into the unbreakable handles of hammers, covered in pale scars gouged into his skin, and his chest is firm, glistening with the sweat of labor in the early morning. His hands are filthy with the blood of foes, already old, his clothes are the rags ready to be burned, and there is fire in his eyes, and no longer does he look through eyes half-shut.

There is a scar that runs from one of the deep furrows in his face, to the ridge above his right eye. It glanced, it did not pierce, not like pretty Shyreza. (She is still beautiful. There is more to beauty than gazelle-dark eyes and an unblemished face. Not that she believes him.) Did Fayruz come down in a mist, as some said, and covered his shoulders in his embrace, that he could be wounded so many times and yet not fall? Saven doubted it, not only because he had seen his goddess, weeping in memory of her ordeal and her failure, but because he knew Gamesha.

"I could not find you last night," he says, and his voice contains otherness, like Fayruz's beautiful voice, like her sister's beguiling song. It is the water of the river flowing and the cadence of a song of healing. Around him, the blood-stained Fayheran shy away. They do not understand that a Kindly One's robes will become stained, stained with blood from injury and childbirth and sickness. They ignore that the robes he wore during that battle were rags when he removed them, filthy and unclean. "Fayruz has returned."

This stops Gamesha. His smile is still sharp and crooked. If he had not known Gamesha for so long, he would think its crookedness was caused by the scars running over his face. And when he speaks, there is otherness in his voice, the deepness and strength of a horse rumbling beneath his words, the bronze-winged eagle's cry in its sharpness. "Our Maiden? Where was she? Take me to her! Ruttin stars above, take me to her!" And this is why the Fayheran have already given him the name that runs across the camp, the Scarred King. They say it is because he broke the Ghoulking's skull and refused a hundred despoilers entrance into the Olm, defending the children and the elders through the sacrifice of his blood. But it is because he is theirs, he is a mortal kissed by divinity and yet he is still a man, a man who is of the Fayheran. Because he removes his robes and wears rags, and carries the bodies of the dead to the pyres, when any other would have demanded respect and praise from the lips of the people.

"She is hurt," he says, trying to find the right words. He never could. He has not now. Gamesha's eagerness turns to fury. He wants to repay in kind, so Saven reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder. They understand each other. The goddess is not pleased by vengeance, and they would not either weary her. "The mistress of the City At The Edge Of Darkness... broke something in her." Gamesha tenses, the fury rising again in his blood. He blinks back tears. "She must rest. Her sister, her brother, they are still here. And we-" He brushes back the edge of his hood. It looks like sun on water. "We are marked. By something."

"River," Gamesha says, with forced lightness. "Dragon and pretty gazelle. Are these the ruttin champions of her people? A fine ruttin group, then." He starts to turn away, then stops. "We found the Wolf Lord," he says. Saven feels cold. No one had told him. "He stopped them from scaling the wall, chased them into the desert. They found his foes piled all about him, and his weapons broken. He fought like a ruttin wolf in the end, and they couldn't... they didn't scale the ruttin wall." He takes a deep breath, shudders. "We've work to do, blood-brother. Wouldn't do for our Maiden to wake up to see all these ruttin bodies tossed all about our walls, now?"

"No," Saven says, softly. He begins to walk away, back to where he is needed, for Gamesha is strong inside, like copper hammered in layers upon itself. But he stops, and says to him, before he leaves. "The Council must meet, Gamesha. Today. To speak of what must come now."

"I'll be there," Gamesha promises. And this promise, Saven knows – this promise is what will cause all other members of the Council to be at the Riverfane at the right time. Gamesha, the Scarred King, will sit there to serve the goddess, and that is enough.

The bone must be broken to set it, Saven says to himself. And the broken bone must be mended carefully.

[Gengy]

Jongo and Torvaag

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So, the boss kept a eye on the disk after he left. Seeing how the titans went, didn't think he paid that much attention.

And seeing Jongo's outburst, he gets slightly embarassed. He got worked up again. Shouldn't have done that. Should probobly apologize, this un don't seem that bad, and can always ask the winds and water.

Torvaag grumbles out something. It's not in the toungue if gods or mortals, but that of the world. His accent is noticable. When he speaks of wind, it sounds like air wistling through chimes, and his water speech is that of dripping stone. As they confirm what Jongo said, he almost relaxes. He is a volcano elemental on a cloud after all.

"Sorry bout the presumption, they're voching fir ye, so you can't be completly bad. And sorry bout your kids. Only family I ever knew where my little brothers and sisters, and they were right terrors sometime."

He sighes, and the gust if air, while heated, isn't much more then a daytime breeze.

"It's just with all that's been going on, with the titans getting out, things creeping in, and the others lost, it's been a bad few decades."

And all of a sudden, he thinks of something. This here feller, he's probobly one if the better gods. If he's grounded a bit, he might even help get them gods to respect the world a bit more.

"Jongo, yer never talked to the earth? Want me to give yer some pointers?"

"Pointers? From you?" The young human child seems to light up with excitement. Then there is a long low note from the ring on Jongo's finger. "Right. Right. Thank you, Band of Chaos. When you are right, you are right, and you are right."

Addressing Torvaag again, Jongo clears his throat. "I would love any help you might be able to give. I intend to be able to speak with all four elements the way my Father might have. I think we may need it. But... later, perhaps. I've my own family to find, and you have yours. They were stuck in... a dream you say? Well, that's easy enough to deal with. You just need to see my brother, the God of Dreams. I bet Rodney could sort this all out for you, or at least point you in the right direction. When was the last time you took a nap?"

Years Earlier - Chaos and Deception

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Over the Sea of Jongo

One would be forgiven for not noticing a tiny brown speck in the skies above the horizon. Pyra was flying fairly high, after all, and even a Roc might not attract too much attention from such a distance.

Of course, what might be just a tad more noticeable is the *SPLOOSH* sound that goes along with a body entering water at high velocity. A young woman, dressed in a conservative black outfit, erupts from the water moments later.

Roselia searches the horizon. Seeing nothing, she turns her godly senses loose, searching for a brother or sister. Seeing a blip on that radar, she began to swim towards the nearest source.

Jongo might be in for a bit of a surprise.

"Creator-Father-Mother? There is a strange human in our waters. She's wearing unusual clothing, and doesn't seem bothered by the fact that there is no land for miles around." A Jongoscion - Dani? Yes, Dani. Jongo could tell by the stripes in Dani's hair - carefully reported.

"Thank you Dani. I'll see to it personally." Jongo changed from the shining Jongoscion she had been to the large red Dolphin, and quickly shot through the water towards the swimming woman. It took several minutes, but soon, Jongo was there, watching the odd woman in the dress, carefully performing the butterfly kick.

Jongo came up underneath the woman in the - now soaked - black dress, and lifting her onto his back, spoke teasingly, "Well, Rose, you certainly took your sweet time getting here. I expected you to be running the Disk by now. I mean, really, dear sister, over a few centuries without even stopping in to say hello? Where you and Faden plotting world domination already? Should I be bowing and scraping to the Queen of the World now?"

Jongo loved Rose. She was fun.

[Kasanip]

(Before Turn 3)

At the Olm Cunning Renard makes plan to trick Sonata a third time

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It can be said that Renard, the chief fox, is honored most highly of foxes for his Tricking, Listening to Music, Dancing and Cunning. To have convinced a Princess of the White City to put on the fox coat and become more like a fox, such is the great proud and secret achievement of the fox clan. But Renard also was won over by Sonata, and had faithfully assisted many times to her. His second trick of Sonata had been at Ecchr, when it was his cunning plan that Nel was sent to persuade Sonata to turn and look at humanity, and so bless them with rain and protection. In such a way, the proud fox had later become mastered, for Sonata learned quickly the coats that she wore, and treasured them. So it was that Renard had been speechless of the stunning plan to tame the Lightning Wolf, and had seen the great accomplishments of Sonata, to travel to the Olm. And at the Olm, Renard had been ordered to protect the Olm and people of Fayruz, the twin Sister of Sonata, while Sonata would rescue her.

These duties Renard had faithfully enacted, and so the foxes of the desert had rallied to redeem their despised name, and loyally to serve with the other foxes, and protect with their fangs and shadow trickery, the people of the Olm.

However, their presence was ignored mostly by the people of the Olm, and so there was discontent of the desert foxes, who turned to Renard to ask. And so Renard welcomed them into Sonata's service, who is friendly to foxes and most like a fox of all of the gods. But now that Sonata had returned with Fayruz, who had seemed most sad and upset, and tired from her capture, now Sonata had attended and worked her song and love to help to heal painful memories tenderly.

And she had returned to Shyreza, to teach Ar Maen, and to change her coat and walk as a human. And yet Sonata had done this secretly from Fayruz, for the song of humanity that Sonata had sung around herself was such a disguise, and Renard thought perhaps Sonata was still concerned for Fayruz.

And Renard, the chief fox could lazily observe the Olm, and hear the complaints of the foxes, who bring messages but who weren't so respected in the Olm. The gold Aria fox arrived, to bring this news of Nel's death, and the affairs of Ecchr, which Renard had managed the administration of Sonata for many years now.

So with the Aria fox he fox danced as custom, and then sharing drink, they talked.

Our lady Sonata
is concerned with dry deserts
and veiled humans now!
Who could have thought
the Aria fox plan of Renard
would turn our Lady
from a fox
into a human!

This was the despair of the Aria fox, who can be forgiven, for only having arrived, and hearing the explanation from Renard of the city. But Renard laughed a fox laugh and replied.

Don't worry!
Renard alone of all the disk
has seen every coat Lady Sonata has worn!
Watch closely, Aria fox, from every shadow
and I will show how
this fox turns the coat inside-out!

[Vesth]

A single eye cracks open, revealing nothing but a blurred lines and shapes, too vague to make out, or even to guess at.

"Where....where am I?" Vorax speaks, his voice hoarse from disuse, from the torment of the desert that held him at its mercy for so long. But strangely enough, his throat is no longer parched, though the hunger still remains, a deep yearning that stretched into the very core of his being, so much so that it hurt.

As his sensibilities comes back to him, he realises that he is sitting on some sort of stone chair, the sensation old, but familiar. It felt very much like his old throne, and the feeling brought back memories of his reign as King for the kingdom of Carne. How long ago was that? A few hundred years?

Blinking a few times, he opens both eyes, and with his returned vision, he finds himself back in his old throne room, though it has largely fallen apart, with cracks running across the walls and ceiling, and supporting pillars either broken or barely standing. All the furniture had been cleared, making the hall look even bigger than what it already is. And then, there are people, dozens of them, all cloaked in brown, kneeling before him.

"Great Vorax, it is I, Isur. We have rescued you from your prison, and we stand before you now, as your new followers," said the one closest to him, still kneeling down in that same position.

"Yes....yes..." Vorax says, his eyes diluting slightly as he instinctively recalls the recent past.

He had been trapped, have been impaled in the desert of the North, an anomaly that existed solely because of the mountain range that had blocked off, not only the clouds that emptied itself before reaching this perculiar place, but also the chill winds that warmed under the sun from days of travel. He would have died, a hundred times over, but somehow the Spirit that he ate kept him alive, though it was hardly a blessing.

It was very much a curse.

It gave him a hunger so profound that he could barely deal with it, and combined with the scorching desert heat, it was a wonder he remained sane. He had been transformed as well, his now bloated skin, thick and fat, as well as sharp, pointed and long teeth, gave him an almost inhuman appearance.

He unconsiously touches his own flabby skin, recoiling inwardly at the sensation...and then, he realises something. His wounds are completely healed, as if they weren't there in the first place....but there are now several small scars around his body.

Absorbed in his own self-inspection and introspection, he hardly noticed that two of the cloaked figures had stood up, and have approached either side of him.

"My wounds...they have healed. How-" he started, but the two beside him placed their hands on his arms, each to one arm, and he felt drowsy as a faint blue light issued from their fingertips.

"Yes, Great Vorax, we have healed your wounds...but we had to borrow some of your power to do so. I hope you understand our intentions." Isur says as he stands, revealing himself to be a thin, wiry man, with long, wispy grey hair that matched a gaunt face and intelligent blue eyes to give the impression of a wise man.

Without bothering to wait for a reply, since he knew that their god was unable to speak or think clearly, he turns to the mass of followers that remain kneeled.

"Fellow members of the newly christened Church of Hunger! I stand before you now as your Grand Priest! We are entering a new era, a new age, where our god has come to us, and has blessed us! He sits before you now, listening to us, bearing to us, giving his infinite wisdom to us. And I will be his voice." he says, gesturing towards the magically drugged Vorax, before turning back to the followers.

"And he blesses us with his power! Yes, we all can gain this immense power that lies within our god. But that requires service, dedication, and above all, loyalty! Loyalty for nothing but the Great Vorax, and trust in his thoughts and abilities! We shall be his hand, his voice and we shall fufill his desires! Now, watch as I become his champion!" he says, as he gestured to a third human, who scuttered forward and passed him what seemed to be an elaborate knife.

With a deft and practiced slice, he cuts a portion of flesh off from Vorax, who struggles slightly, but his dazed look showed that he didn't comprehend what was going on. As Isur took the piece of flesh, the follower that passed him the knife filled a golden goblet with Vorax's divine blood, before patching the wound. Of course, Isur and a few selected followers had done this before, but not such a large piece of flesh, and not that much blood. Today was the exhibition, the grand opening of their religion, and he had to put up quite a show to secure their loyalty. Everything is going to plan.

In front of everyone in attendance, he eats the flesh, before crouching down in obvious pain, clutching at his belly. Waves of energy float off him, flooding the kneeled people with a vocarious sensation, not unlike a strange kind of hunger that lasted for a few minutes.

And then, it stopped. Isur stands up once again, but this time, he practically shines with energy, even though he looked hardly different. Giving a faint nod, the two humans holding Vorax down drank from the goblet, taking a huge mouthful each, before passing it on to a selected group of individuals, who merely took sips as they passed it on.

"Welcome!" Isur shouted jubliantly, "Welcome to grand beginning of the Church of Hunger!"

As Vorax watches uncomprehendingly, his mind shifts inwards and he thinks back, remembering how he got here...

Acts

Spoiler

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Major Acts:
Create an Exarch (Isur)
Gain an Ability (Battle Magic). The Priests will be using this in combat.

Minor Acts:
Create a servant with greater power (The Priest of Hunger and the Priest of Power. The Priest of Faith comes later)
Create a small number of servants of moderate power (Rank 2 Priests)

Acts left: 1 Major Act, 1 Ceremony

[Grimsage Matt]

Meeting with Jongo

Torvaag nods. Everyone has some job, as well as duties and obligations. And why would he ask about me taking a nap?

"Not that long ago, only been ten, twenty years since me last nap. And, meaning no disrespect, why yer askin?"

At this point, he's looking partialy uncomfotable, and slightly nervous. Not if you, but rather the surrondings.

[Gengy]

Chaos Shows the Way

"Because, my rocky friend, you can't talk to Rodney without sleeping! And you won't be able to do that if you stay here. I'll give you a push, if you want, and we'll see each other later!" Jongo smiles, and places a hand on Torvaag's chest.

"Just say the word, and I think with... a bit of a twist here and there... I can send you to Rodney's dreamrealm. From there, he can help you find your brothers and sisters. Just... don't get him upset. He's normally quite calm; but if he were to get angry while you were in Castle Rhudfir, I don't know what would happen. Even I would have trouble with him there. But don't worry - he's quite friendly if you stay respectful!"

Spoiler

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Grim, gotta get you going on your quest. Meeting some of the Gods, learning to... tolerate them... and then accepting your own godhood - this sounds like a pretty neat quest!

So Jongo is offering to send you to the Dream Realm, and we'll let THEChanger take things from there!

[Grimsage Matt]

Torvaag nods.

"Might as well, but just one thing? No disrespect intended, but could you ask the cloud to set me down somewhere rocky?"

As he's saying this, he's fidgeting nervously. Don't like askin others fer favours.

"Just that, as a... more earthy elemental, if I'm going ter be out of me body fer a bit, well, home is what yer are and all."

[Gengy]

Spoiler

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The following was approved by Matt!

"Oh, I totally agree. Home is definitely where you are at! And I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable, resting on a cloud, and out of your element." Jongo grinned, as his hand began to glow. The Band of Chaos chimed in with a discontent cord of noise that might be mistaken for a low laugh.

"Which is why I'm sending you, completely and totally, to Rodney. Physically. I've been practicing, and I'm pretty sure I can do it. Rodney and Cookie gave me the idea."

"Wait, wha-"

"No need to thank me! We'll see each other again, I'm sure! Have a safe trip, and say hello to Rodney for me!"

One hand still resting on the rocky skin, with a snap of Jongo's other hand, Torvaag fell into a deep deep sleep. The Band of Chaos and Jongo hummed together, and the cloud that everyone was standing on rose up around Torvaag, slowly encircling him, like a snake slithering up a pole.

When the cloud fully enshrouded the Elemental, Jongo yelled, "To Castle Rhudfir!"

With a burst of rainbow colors, the cloud scattered.

There was nothing inside. Torvaag was gone, staff and all.

Jongo fell into the water. Popping back up to where he had been standing seconds ago, she looked down at her hand with the Band of Chaos on it.

"I sure hope we did that right."